<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:10:28.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dreamension</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-1381108414719480382</id><published>2007-08-07T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T00:44:08.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ship</title><content type='html'>I am fighting some kind of naval war...&lt;br /&gt;then I somehow end up on the enemy ship... life is good there&lt;br /&gt;Sun is shining, I sunbathe...&lt;br /&gt;On the ship there is also a canteen, and... fuck, there is my workplace too.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I am relaxed and enjoying the sun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-1381108414719480382?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/1381108414719480382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=1381108414719480382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/1381108414719480382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/1381108414719480382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/08/ship.html' title='The ship'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-5563126916709860695</id><published>2007-06-07T03:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T03:27:07.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The day I dreamt Thom Yorke</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.born-today.com/Today/pix/yorke_thom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 260px;" src="http://www.born-today.com/Today/pix/yorke_thom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tonight I had a strange dream.&lt;br /&gt;It is very complex, so I will try my best to write it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at home with my girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;Upstrairs from us, lives a &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;girl&lt;/span&gt;, and we are in love too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm in love both with my actual girlfriend and with the girl from upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to the girl from upstairs, I kiss her, I tell her I love her but I'm sorry, I also love my girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I turn into "&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;director&lt;/span&gt;" mode. It looks like I am "shooting" my own dream. I am able to decide the camera angle, and even see a scene again if I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;The "top" scene is when I "film" myself strolling around town (a seaside town) with my girlfriend Greta, and suddenly my head turns into a small golf ball then back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed the scene so much I watched it again, in the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the dream, we are sitting down at a café, near the beach. On the beach there are rocks, big rocks, and there are people sitting there. Amongst them, is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Thom Yorke&lt;/span&gt;. Eheheheh yes. Beside him, a telephone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Greta know that if we call him on the phone, he is able to then call an indian guru (think of a sai baba type of guru) - and the indian guru will then straighten up all things that are going wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we make the call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All people on the beach run away in fear, all but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Thom Yorke&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;He answers the phone and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the dream is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you like the movie? :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-5563126916709860695?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/5563126916709860695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=5563126916709860695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/5563126916709860695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/5563126916709860695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/06/day-i-dreamt-thom-yorke.html' title='The day I dreamt Thom Yorke'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-3352812052836469285</id><published>2007-05-16T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T04:14:36.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and Fra at the psychedelic café</title><content type='html'>There's me, there's my friend &lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://www.myspace.com/veracrash"&gt;Francesco&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;We are somewhere in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milano"&gt;Milano&lt;/a&gt;, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's night.&lt;br /&gt;We have to go to see someone playing live, or anyway some kind of show, and we are supposed to sleep in the street for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's very late at night&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We end up in a café. Not really a posh one. Rather, the opposite of posh, it's very run-down. The bartender is completely bored, he wears a t-shirt with some kind of stains on it, like coffee stains. Overall, the shop looks dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We order something to drink. Francesco asks for a tea, I ask for some warm milk.&lt;br /&gt;The bartender gives the tea to Francesco, and gives me a coffee with some milk in eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I don't ask for my warm milk, I decide not to drink the coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a look out of the café. I see &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"&gt;homeless people&lt;/span&gt; sleeping at the sides of the road, under bushes, or even in plain site. I go back into the café.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francesco shows me the reason why we are there.&lt;br /&gt;We get into a room, where there are a few chairs an nothing else. We sit on the chairs, the lights are turned off, and suddenly the whole room is filled with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;rotating &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;coloured&lt;/span&gt; cubes and various &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;rotating&lt;/span&gt; shapes&lt;/span&gt;, and we &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;fly&lt;/span&gt; through them in our chairs that are chairs no more (I don't feel like I am sitting on a chair), in wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the light is turned on, I realize I'm still on my chair inside an empty room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francesco says there are other places like this, but &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;this one is by far the better one&lt;/span&gt;, there is more space in the room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-3352812052836469285?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/3352812052836469285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=3352812052836469285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/3352812052836469285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/3352812052836469285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/05/me-and-fra-at-psychedelic-caf.html' title='Me and Fra at the psychedelic café'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-4184265096359270337</id><published>2007-05-10T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T04:36:27.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The haunted house</title><content type='html'>I was in a house.&lt;br /&gt;A dark house, by night.&lt;br /&gt;I am alone I think. I am confined to one or two rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noone tells me I am confined to those rooms but I just know that I am not supposed to go out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I get out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rooms are very dark, checkered tiles on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl is skating around. There are other people too, but I don't rememeber...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone seems silent and scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont remember much more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-4184265096359270337?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/4184265096359270337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=4184265096359270337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/4184265096359270337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/4184265096359270337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/05/haunted-house.html' title='The haunted house'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-3445842657482648459</id><published>2007-05-04T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T04:56:41.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Son</title><content type='html'>Tonight I dreamt I had a son from my girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;He was a few years old when I saw him, he was already speaking, and he seemed so intelligent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom was very happy, and so were we (me and by gf).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-3445842657482648459?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/3445842657482648459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=3445842657482648459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/3445842657482648459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/3445842657482648459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/05/son.html' title='Son'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-4286724157334474981</id><published>2007-04-25T03:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T03:47:22.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new sickness</title><content type='html'>Some results from a blood exam came in&lt;br /&gt;I was with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the value was wrong, and it meant I had "new" sickness, simething like HIV but different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't trust doctors, so I started saying i wouldnt want to get cured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered, the blood exam was for my grandma and not for me, so I told so to my parents, we were eating toghether and my grandma was there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma said: "what? did I do anything wrong?" and I said "No no, don't worry". But I was relieved the sickness was not mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-4286724157334474981?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/4286724157334474981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=4286724157334474981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/4286724157334474981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/4286724157334474981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/04/new-sickness.html' title='A new sickness'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-2781742760387817984</id><published>2007-04-16T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T05:06:34.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Being a woman</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I dreamt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that i was a woman, perhaps my girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that i had a boyfriend, he was studying philosophy.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to fuck in the elevator, but he didn't want to.&lt;br /&gt;He had a big book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left him to himself and went my way, I had to go to a work interview&lt;br /&gt;On my way, walking, I was thinking I was disgusted of him, he was ugly, I wanted an handsome man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to take the bus, I was in my hometown Milano. Buses were weird. They had been friendly "hijacked" by pro hemp legalisation campaigners, plus there was a public bus service strike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took one of the hijacked bus, it had weird drawings and a weird shape. The bus didn't go in the direction I needed. So I couldn't make it to the interview.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-2781742760387817984?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/2781742760387817984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=2781742760387817984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/2781742760387817984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/2781742760387817984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/04/being-woman.html' title='Being a woman'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-4068967816897588356</id><published>2007-04-09T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T07:37:59.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The prison</title><content type='html'>I'm in a prison. &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I live there&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;It's not a real prison. It's like a big house, and everything seems cool. Some people are doing drugs and they seem allright, not scared, only a bit uneasy, if anything.&lt;br /&gt;They seem to know they are not really &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;free&lt;/span&gt;, but they don't care.&lt;br /&gt;I notice &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt; cannot get out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of that house.&lt;br /&gt;I start to think I am in a prison that looks like a house.&lt;br /&gt;My parents are in the prison too, they are quiet and don't notice anything weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I get to know &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;the door of the prison is open 4 hours a week&lt;/span&gt;. Some people go out for a walk and come back. I don't know why they are coming back... why don't they stay out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's what I am going to do. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm going to escape&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-4068967816897588356?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/4068967816897588356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=4068967816897588356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/4068967816897588356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/4068967816897588356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/04/prison.html' title='The prison'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1631778946325906163.post-8299757198513412148</id><published>2007-04-09T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T02:14:27.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My dreamension</title><content type='html'>From now on I will start using this blog to keep track of my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1631778946325906163-8299757198513412148?l=mydreamension.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/feeds/8299757198513412148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1631778946325906163&amp;postID=8299757198513412148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/8299757198513412148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1631778946325906163/posts/default/8299757198513412148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mydreamension.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-dreamension.html' title='My dreamension'/><author><name>Alex</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15642072110386135972</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/55/buddyicons/41443565@N00.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
